


darling, dearest, dead

by postscripts (hartleyhadley)



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Please Don't Kill Me, Random & Short, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hartleyhadley/pseuds/postscripts
Summary: "She stumbled upon the world and she’s only trying to hold her softly.Raelle’s calloused fingertips circle her arm. Scylla peppers dew light kisses her neck. They whisper sweet nothings, tender promises of better days Scylla didn’t dare fathom until she met her."- - -in which Scylla thinks and thinks and mourns.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Kudos: 35





	darling, dearest, dead

Every minute was a minute spent craving for these little things called justice and liberation. 

But when Scylla is flush against Raelle’s body — she melts and nothing matters more than how divine her breath feels on her skin. For a minute they were not slaves to their history. They were two women with old souls and ever-seraphic. Her breathlessness sustains her. When she closes her eyes she feels peace she used to think she didn’t deserve. 

She stumbled upon the world and she’s only trying to hold her softly.

Raelle’s calloused fingertips circle her arm. Scylla peppers dew light kisses her neck. They whisper sweet nothings, tender promises of better days Scylla didn’t dare fathom until she met her. 

Scylla wakes up in the epicenter of peace and chaos. Outside was the domestic morning buzz, beyond her was a looming grandiosity of all the things that might go wrong and beside her was Raelle, faintly snoring, looking so delicate in the hazy light. There’s a honeyed tranquility in her heartbeat and a sweet melody in her pulse. She finds slivers of home and shreds of hope in Raelle. It scared Scylla on how just _lost_ she could be when Raelle is with her.

\-----

Scylla tries to recall when _burning_ was still a pleasure. When she and Raelle still had the luxury of stumbling in the dark, their movements fluid as ink and sunlight. The days when navy and dust clung together, days when she still had the reason to smile despite everything.

_“You don’t have to carry someone else’s sins,”_ Raelle told her once when they were foraging for mushrooms. Scylla treaded lightly, she knew all too well how to. Raelle was tripping on imaginary rocks every five seconds. Funnily enough they were talking about fungi and the beauty of decay. 

In front of her the sea clamored for her attention. She’s been standing for so long her legs went numb. There was nothing left to honor Raelle by. There was nothing left of her to love.

It hits Scylla again: Raelle and her words, sending her into a suffocating vortex, the look on her face, her eyes broken and fragmented like stars. Her misery spilled like wine and everything Scylla had ever dared to love threatened to freeze and to collapse right then and there before Raelle turned around and left. 

She couldn’t blame her though. 

_She didn’t have to bear the faults of others. But it’s exactly what they did, what they were pre-ordained to do before they even uttered their first words._

The sand was cold and frozen. The ocean was this overwhelming boundlessness. So, so blue and too achingly familiar. The color of the sky beld. The waves were so loud that if she screamed a thousand sorry’s no god would hear her.

“I never wanted to hurt her,” she says before it even registers in her mind.

Willa nods, solemn, in the same abyss of grief as Scylla. “I know.”

The two of them are similar in ways Scylla loathed and disgustingly found solace in. They both lovingly violated everything they were obligated to stand for and they did it for the people they loved. 

She thinks of her parents. Innocent, beautiful souls. Then Raelle. Her blue eyes ashine, essence far too splendid for a world like this. She thinks of how when you love someone and when someone loves you as deep as trenches or are high as stars, when you love someone so goddamn much you might as well lose yourself entirely then your destiny might as well consist of drowning and falling and burning.

“We have to go,” Willa said. 

Scylla looks at the sea one more time. If anything and anyone can make all this more beautiful and more heavenly — it was Raelle. 

**Author's Note:**

> if y'all made it here thank you so much for reading !! <3


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